{random poetry #89}

[the peace of wild things ]

when despair grows in me
and i wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
i go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
i come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. i come into the presence of still water.
and i feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. for a time
i rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

•.•❤•.•

there is a day
when the road neither
comes nor goes, and the way
is not a way but a place.

Berry, W.